


We'll See the Good and Bad

by LadyLunas



Series: Glass [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-09 03:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12879504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLunas/pseuds/LadyLunas
Summary: Loki's time with the Chitauri has changed everything. Now Darcy and Loki must move forward while coming to terms with a world that is different than either of them imagined.





	1. Fragile

Loki jolted awake and stared up at the dim ceiling of his bedroom. Lights played across it, reflected from the ever-changing water surrounding the palace as it caught the early evening starlight. The familiar sight soothed, but did not help his ragged breathing.

He closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. His hair tangled around his fingers and Loki yanked his hand free. He needed to bathe; his fingers felt greasy. He rolled out of bed and walked into his study. The bath could wait. The memories crowding his mind needed to settle before he would be able to relax enough to enjoy the hot water.

Fire stirred from the banked coals with a flick of his fingers. He settled before the hearth and wrapped his arms around his legs. He did not know how much longer he could take the whispers behind his back and the pointed looks. The overheard conversations about the ‘Jotun prince’ and the ‘weak-willed sorcerer.’ The elders of the court seemed determined to turn Asgard fully against him. They had learned nothing in the years since the last great war with the Jotuns, but let their hatred fester in their hearts. His idiotic revelation of his true parentage before the entire court and Laufey- his failure to rescue himself- Thanos-

Slowly he fed logs into the fire with shaking hands, watching as the bark caught and crackled as water evaporated. Loki calmed the longer he sat there. He could hold out longer. He was not without allies in the court or the city, no matter that his mischief had driven more than a few against him years ago. He would have to plan, but he had neither the energy nor the strength. He just kept his head down and listened. Listened and said not a word.

“Brother?”

Loki looked over his shoulder. Thor stood in the doorway, a box tucked into the crook of one arm. Firelight turned him all to gold.

“It’s late for a visit, is it not?”

“Loki, the feast is just now finishing,” Thor said. “Father said you declined to sup with the court.”

Loki regarded Thor for a moment and turned back to face the fire. “I thought you were on Midgard.”

“I was,” Thor said as he walked over with clomping steps. “Jane tasked me to deliver this.” 

He sat down and set the cardboard box in front of Loki. Two envelopes were taped on top. He tore them off, recognizing Darcy’s neat print on one and Jane’s scribbled cursive on the other. He slid his finger under the unsecured flap of Darcy’s and pulled out a few pieces of some elegant paper. A smile twitched across his face as he skimmed her letter. The pages shook in his hands.

 

_Dear Loki,_

_So this is the first time I’ve seen Thor since New York and that craziness and I’m fairly certain that the letters I have written to you weren’t passed on aside from that first one I sent. Not that I’d be able to tell, but since you haven’t written since the first one I got back, I’m assuming that instead of thinking that-Yeah, never mind. Just me rambling again. So Thor stopped by the tower (Tony has some pretty nifty renovations going on now. Seriously, me being friends with the Avengers. Completely awesome.)_

_Life after New York was crazy. Mom and Dad freaked out big time and I really won’t (and can’t) tell them about my new job. Stark Industries offered me full time and I was going to accept it. Seriously, was going to walk into work and say yes. But this tall, serious-looking guy called me up out of the blue - I thought he was someone from one the jobs I applied to in case SI wasn’t going to keep me. We met in a small coffee shop (bleh, Starbucks) and he turns out to be from Asgard. Brought with him a familiar face so I would know he was the real deal. You know her. Sif._

_Does your government not trust me or something? Because I might be a polisci graduate, but people with only an internship with a crazy brilliant astrophysicist and one in a PR office don’t get chosen to work for soon-to-be-opened embassies. The only thing I can think of is my connection to Thor and/or my relationship with you. Because I might be inexperienced but I am not naive._

_Anyway, I start in two weeks. Normal hours, great pay (A decent wage in New York City? Awesome. It means I can actually afford to stay in my apartment without having to live paycheck to paycheck. Even if all I have to myself is what I swear used to be an overlarge walk-in closet. And I won’t leave my friends in the lurch like that no matter how tiny my living space, even if the pay gets better. The lease isn’t over until next May and I rather like living in Brooklyn. Even if the commute sucks.). I’m kinda dreading meeting my coworkers, though. They’ve got to be people from high up in the Asgardian court or something. And then there’s me who just happens to know the right people._

_Still, it’s a job and my boss at Stark Industries said she’d take me back in a heartbeat if the embassy gig didn’t pan out. It’s only supposedly for a year. I can deal with it and I can always quit if I can’t._

_Plus, it might give me the chance to see you. If you ever come back to Earth. (Should I use Midgard? It’s your word and I’ll be working at your embassy.) I hope you do come back. I know you’re healing and all that. You need to be well again and it’s taking time. But I miss seeing you and having you around and listening to you speak. Those few days in May weren’t near long enough._

_Hey, Loki. When you’re better and up to visiting, I know a great tea place near my apartment. Wanna check it out sometime?_

_All my love,  
Darcy_

 

Well, that was interesting. His already dark mood fouled further. He could see his father’s hand in Darcy’s new job. He did not need to be interfering in her life. Loki’s relationship with her had nothing to do with the governance of Asgard. Even if Odin could see nothing but the politics.

Thor frowned when Loki carefully folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. “Mother said you’ve felt ill most of the day.”

Loki clenched his jaw and stared down at the box and Jane’s letter. He reached for the box; examining whatever was inside would hide his symptoms better than holding another letter. The flaps came back easily. Eight metal canisters stood nestled in packing paper. He picked one up and turned it around to read the label glued to one side. Organic mint tea.

Jane’s letter read simple and brief. She wished him well and hoped the tea would help. Loki frowned at it, then glared at Thor. “What did you tell her?”

“That you were recovering from your time in the Chitauri’s grasp,” Thor said. “Nothing further.”

A rush of heat pricked at Loki’s eyes. He let his gaze fall back to the tea in the box and the letter he held. “She remembered I like tea.”

“Has Lady Darcy not sent you any?”

Loki flinched and folded the box shut, placing Jane’s letter on top. He clenched his hands in his lap. “She knows of my dietary restrictions. And followed my request to keep them secret.”

The fire crackled as Thor sat quiet. Loki twitched. Had his brother closed the door behind him? He was not going to look. He had to trust him. The fire warmed his front and the empty room behind him cooled. The dichotomy relieved him slightly. He’d never been warm in the Chitauri’s clutches. And he could set a simple spell to warn him of danger. Funny how life was now. For someone born with magic, the past two years conditioned him against using it. He twitched at the thought of the cuffs locked around his wrists and the device the Chitauri had embedded in his neck. Eighteen hours it took Eir to remove and it still seemed to sit buried in his skin and wound around his nerves.

Two years. He stood and strode away from the fire to stare out across Asgard from the small balcony. It gleamed under the starshine and the fires of the nebulae burning in the sky. The sun had set, leaving the city as a built construct resembling its sky. Lights shone in the dark.

“Brother, what is wrong?”

Thor’s soft tone carried even paces away. Loki’s hands clenched on the rail. What could he say to Thor that had not already been said? His brother never listened. Never watched. Never took the time to know that . . . he cared. In his own way, Thor cared. Brothers. Were they really? After the adoption, after that knowledge became public-

“Where should I begin, Thor?” Loki asked, voice starting out mild. “With Laufey’s continuing insistence that I reside on Jotunhiem? Or with Asgard’s continuing unease at their Jotun prince returned so recently from terrible captivity? Or perhaps my guilt that I could not stop- or my inability to heal from what they did to me?!”

His temper always overcame him at his worst. Loki clenched his jaw and fought back the hot tears pricking at his eyes. He had no control, was of no use to anyone in this condition. Even the Ravens let him be after their initial interviews, and Asgard’s intelligence service had no real reason to do so unless so ordered by their commander. And of course Odin would order such a thing for one of his sons, no matter how valuable the information. Loki would never make that mistake when he took it over after the transition process was complete, however far in the future that would be. Whenever Odin decided to stop fighting Thor’s coming changes.

“You are healing,” Thor said from behind. He turned Loki to face him. Loki hadn’t even heard him stand and walk over. Thor clasped his shoulder gently. “Eir assures us all of that.”

Loki stared at his brother and wrenched out his grip. “Then why do my hands still shake? Why, why do I feel like I’m not here, not in my head, that _this is not real_?”

The metal of the rail dug into his back as Loki pressed himself against it. It was not rough, jagged stone and there was nothing on the back of his neck now. It was gone. Loki shuddered. Asgard was real and he was home. The Chitauri had messed with his head, drugged him, hurt him, and now he didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know anything. He could feel the Other sometimes lurking in the back of his mind, distant but there. Paranoia? Truth?

He slid down to the floor and pressed harder against the metal. Thor loomed over him at first and then crouched when Loki glanced up and flinched. Thor remained quiet until Loki gained control of his ragged breathing.

“Have you eaten?”

“Sparingly since breakfast,” Loki croaked, too tired to push back now. Anything more than simple buttered toast and the like sent him running to the privy. His stomach turned at the thought of actual food.

“ _Loki_.” Thor sighed after his first irritated growl. “Have you had any of your evening medicine yet?”

Only his morning dose. Loki looked away from his brother. He detested the foul-tasting tonics that Eir and Idunn had concocted because he was dependent on something outside his control. Loki’s hands twined around themselves. He needed to take them. So much of what the Chitauri had done to him was not healing on its own. His body was still not his. He hated it.

“Bread, Thor,” Loki said softly, still not looking at him. “Simple foods. I am able to keep those down.”

A rather large stack of toast with accompanying spreads arrived within minutes of Thor summoning the nearest servant. Loki eyed the flavored sugar Thor dusted a few slices with, but stuck with simple butter. When Thor handed him two vials, Loki gave in. He swallowed both with a grimace. Loki nibbled on the toast for the next hour as the medicines kicked in. The shaking in his hands lessened slightly. He glared at them for no good reason. Even for an Asgardian (a Jotun, a tiny corner of his mind supplied), nerve damage inflicted so masterfully did not heal fast.

“It’s been almost three months,” Loki said. “I have barely left the palace in all that time.” His tone was bitter and he did not care. “And you have been on Midgard with your beloved.”

”I have not only been with Jane,” Thor said. His voice didn’t raise. Loki hadn’t needled him enough yet. “I have been reassuring their varied governments that-”

”That I am in my right mind again and no longer desire to conquer the planet?” Loki snapped.

“They think you escaped the Chitauri’s grasp and were rescued, not that you were forced to be the cause of the invasion,” Thor said, now finally getting riled. “What you have done is not yours to own. The responsibility lies with those who controlled you and there is none who will convince me otherwise.”

Loki could not help himself. Mother was no real target and Father, well, Father was not here. Thor was available and there and oh so easy to needle. “And what if I was willing?”

”Heimdall saw,” Thor said simply. “You were not.”

Damn Thanos. If he’d wanted a war, why demonstrate it before the might of As- Oh. Loki tilted his head and looked up at the sky. Thor had come alone to bring him home, seeking to subvert Thanos’ will for war and death.

Yet Midgard still paid the price. Loki squeezed his eyes shut. New York on fire blazed in his mind. And why had he not asked earlier, save for the immense guilt that flooded him every time he thought about it. “How much damage was done?”

“Less than we might have thought,” Thor said. “Many buildings were damaged and thousands lost their lives-” Loki flinched. “-but the Midgardians know how to handle themselves in a crisis and the casualties were much lessened due to the actions their police and military forces took.”

“And the Avengers in direct response to those I harmed.”

Loki could not look at his brother. He’d attacked and likely killed the man who’d made himself responsible for protecting Darcy. He’d taken her away without a thought but what he’d been promised. A queen at his side as he ruled Midgard. And his actions had provided the impetus for that self-named group of heroes to form.

“Coulson lives.”

What? Loki finally looked up. That was near impossible-

“Stark found out last week,” Thor said. “His outrage was mighty and moved, as the Midgardians say, mountains. Coulson has healed from the wounds you gave him.”

One evil deed reversed. “Next time you return to-” He glanced over at the box of tea abandoned in front of the fire and the two letters beside it. “When I return to Midgard with you-” Loki could not find the words.

He would seek to repay that man the debt Loki owed him. He did not know how he would repay Banner. That debt was almost without price.

”I leave tomorrow evening,” Thor said after a moment of silence. But there was no disagreement in his voice, only a little bit of pride. Pride for what, Loki did not understand. Traveling to Midgard was nothing to be proud of.

Midgard.

Loki breathed in. He was leaving Asgard. No longer would he have to pretend to be above the petty machinations of the court as he slowly recovered. Yet he would leave behind his parents and his library and the knowledge he had not yet discovered. He would be leaving Asgard and any chance of easy acceptance back. Yet the thought appealed. He could assist in the final stages of the treaty negotiations so Thor could return to Asgard and take his rightful place on the throne. He could recover ... with Darcy. He could learn to be Loki again, instead of this sad, pathetic creature the Chitauri had turned him into.

“Tomorrow evening,” Loki repeated. “Be prepared, brother. I plan on a lengthy visit.”

 

The Bifrost touched down with a wave of heat and blown sand. Loki staggered as the sun beat down and glared up into the blue-white sky.

“The sun’ll set in a few hours and it’ll cool down then,” Jane said.

Loki nodded and trudged towards the large van parked a short distance away. Thor could carry his trunk. He pulled himself into the front seat and stretched, glorying in the air conditioning. How the humans could stand this heat he did not know. The van heaved as Thor pulled himself and Loki’s trunk inside. Jane didn’t say a word, just climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled away as soon as everyone was settled. Her driving had improved, Loki idly noted.

She’d ushered them inside her lab before saying a word. Her mind had obviously been on other matters. “Does Darcy know you’re coming?”

”No,” Loki said, looking around. The place hadn’t changed much. A few new machines, an unfamiliar bald man working at one of them, and the usual trail of empty coffee mugs across the desks.

“When will we depart for New York?” Loki asked as he walked over to the kitchen table and sank into one of the chairs.

“Stark’s sending a jet tomorrow morning,” Jane said. “I’m attending a conference at the Goddard Institute in the city, so it’s easier just to go up together.” She scowled. “And gets SHIELD off my back.”

SHIELD? Loki tilted his head. He briefly recalled Thor mentioning an organizational transfer. Did she no longer work for the intelligence organization? The surreal memory of NASA banners in a giant room floated through his head. Considering the now-public state of other worlds, perhaps it was for the best. But he did not press the issue; Jane had her stubborn face on. He let her change the subject.

She and Thor continued talking after Loki dropped out of the conversation a while later. Loki pulled over the day’s newspaper and scanned a few articles. Nothing intrigued him. Normally he followed Midgardian politics for Darcy’s sake, but his eyes glazed over the article about some congressional hearings concerning the battle in New York. He sighed and stared outside at the few people who dared brave the heat.

Jane seemed content to stay up and talk all night to Thor. Selvig had come in, taken one look at Loki, and went straight to his office. Loki clenched his hands and stared down at the scratched surface of the table. He did not know what to say to the man.

Loki eventually followed some of the other people occupying the lab to the small building constructed across the street from the lab. He eyed it with distaste, recognizing the cheap hotel-style design. But the rooms were individual, even if they were on the small side. He sank onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep did not come easy that night, but he remembered none of his dreams. It was a small blessing.

And somehow he was not surprised to see Agent Romanoff when he walked into the lab the following morning. She lifted her head from her contemplation of a steaming mug, red hair shining in the early morning light coming in through the windows. She looked unaffected by the already awful heat. She didn’t smile. “Loki.”

“Agent Romanoff,” he said quietly, feeling woefully unprepared to face her. She wore normal Midgardian clothes, but still felt like she was wearing her armor. The expression on her face gave nothing away.

“A few people want words with you,” she said.

And that was it, the reason for her coolness. She knew that he’d been under control of the Chitauri, had known it wasn’t him making the call to take Barton, but it hurt knowing that she might have had to eliminate the person she trusted most in this world. She’d said love was for children. Loki still had no response for that.

Through the back windows a Quinjet stood out stark against the pale landscape. The engines weren’t running and the back door-ramp was down, but Loki knew just how fast it could launch even from that position. He eyed Natasha for a moment longer, then walked out of the lab towards the jet.

He hadn’t even reached the edge of the building’s shadow before Barton was in step with him. Loki stopped and glanced around for any observers.

“You wouldn’t mean it if you apologized, would you?”

Loki said nothing.

The archer looked disturbingly relaxed. He was even smiling. “I wouldn’t mean it either,” he continued speaking. “See, it took Nat to convince me that it wasn’t my fault. I’d had my head twisted ‘round by something that was beyond my power to understand-”

”It was beyond mine as well,” Loki said. “I received it unwillingly.”

”They tortured you.”

Loki shrugged a shoulder and didn’t answer. But he couldn’t hide the sudden wariness that crept through him. Was it that obvious? Or had his brother-

Barton nodded, Loki’s silence a confirmation. “Thought so. I’ve been there. So has Nat. It sucks.”

“Your commiserations won’t stop the nightmares.” Loki slammed his mouth shut. He glared at Barton. “Forget I said that.”

The smile had faded from Barton’s face. “Consider it done.”

The man nodded his head and walked back to the jet. And as he did so, a tall, dark-skinned man with an eye patch walked down the ramp.

Director Fury stopped just off the ramp, coat still in the hot desert air. Loki hung back. He could not forget the last time he’d seen the man, the night after the attack when he’d been taken into custody at SHIELD’s hospital. Fury watched dispassionately as two soldiers cuffed Loki’s hands in the magic-blocking chains Thor had been forced to bring to Midgard as an eventuality and had not used, as well as that damnable gag. He had not even been trusted with pen and paper, as they were convinced that he could write as well as he could speak. It was hours of yes-and-no questions with burning ribs and tethered magic and the hope that the truth would be believed while that man sat watching silently at the foot of the hospital bed Loki lay in before a night of inadequate rest as his body slowly began to heal.

“The Council does not like that you’ve returned,” Fury said to Loki when he finally walked over. “In fact, they’re damn near convinced you’re fooling everyone. But the world governments want to maintain good relations with Asgard, so the Council has to sit back on their asses.”

Loki flinched, hard. The staff had controlled him, but he remembered everything so clearly. Threatening Stark and Thor, reveling in the destruction the living ships had caused. His attacks against SHIELD mattered little against what he knew the civilian casualty rate was. And damn Fury for reminding him immediately of his actions, as unwilling as they were. It would be hard enough stepping foot into the city he’d wanted to destroy without desiring to run away to another world amidst Yggdrasil’s branches.

Loki glared. He shoved the memories away to the yawning pit in his mind. He barely noticed his nails digging into his palms.

“Behave, Odinson,” Fury said softly. “We’re keeping your involvement in the battle secret. Don’t give us reason to suspect you now.”

Loki stared straight at the man. “Do you expect me to suddenly decide I like being a villain?”

Fury didn’t answer. Loki could live with suspicion; it was fun to subvert people’s expectations. They stared at each other for a long minute, neither willing to cede the battle. Tension crept along Loki’s shoulders. He could not take the scrutiny for much longer and his tongue was all too sharp these days. He needed the goodwill of these people.

The sound of an approaching airplane broke the stalemate. Loki and Fury looked to the dust-covered runway reaching towards the low hills behind Jane’s lab. A small white plane with the Stark Industries logo on its side touched down on the hard ground with practiced ease. Loki breathed softly as the plane slowed to a stop. Within fifteen minutes the engines had cycled off and a staircase unfolded from the side of the plane.

They were in the air an hour later, leaving Fury behind. Thor and Jane sat talking (did they ever stop?) near the front of the cabin. Loki sat in the seat closest to the rear of the craft and stared off into space. For some unknown reason, Barton and Romanoff had joined them on the flight. Both ignored everyone else and sat poring over some files spread out on the table before them. Loki contemplated wandering over, but the urge vanished as the plane sped towards New York.

He never liked facing the consequences of his ill actions and this was so much worse than any mischief he pulled in his younger years. He took deep breaths to calm his racing heart, resisting the urge to curl around himself. Romanoff’s sharp eyes glanced over at him occasionally, but she kept silent. 

A limousine met them at the airport. There were no reporters that Loki could see lurking around. He puzzled over the lack as the driver easily pulled into the traffic leading into the city. It had been a Stark Industries plane, yes. Surely that should have drawn attention. Unless - unless the company’s headquarters had moved to New York City in the two years he’d been absent from Midgard, it could just have been another company plane. The board of directors never merited the attention Stark did. Loki breathed a little easier at the deception, glad Stark had some measure of common sense not to attract attention to his guests.

The driver kept the partition up the entire drive to Stark Tower, granting the passengers privacy. Thor and Jane remained enthralled in their conversation and Barton sat silent. From the careful looks Romanoff gave him, she was evaluating something. Loki turned to look out of the window at the slowly passing city. The traffic was horrendous. It could have been the rebuilding from the battle he’d seen occurring through the window of the plane or perhaps the city was returning to normal. Loki sighed. Midgard was at present both passing familiar and strange. The ease of his existence in Willowdale and Puente Antiguo had vanished into the recesses of his mind. 

Then Romanoff tossed a cell phone onto the seat beside him, startling Loki from his thoughts. “Call Darcy.”

She looked fierce in the sunlight shining through the car windows. How he had ever mistaken her for a helpless woman even knowing everything Barton had told him, how her strengths played games with his head because under the influence of the staff he could not _think_ \- Loki’s hand tightened around the phone.

“She doesn’t know you’re coming,” Romanoff said.

”Darcy kept faith with you,” Barton said. “She was one of the few who did.”

Loki bit back the scathing words on the tip of his tongue as Thor idly glanced over. Faith? It was not faith. It was a fool’s hope. He’d shown the worst of himself that day, the part he’d buried so deep that only the staff could bring it out.

The words came anyway. “Faith is for those too foolish to trust in themselves.”

“Friendship, then,” Romanoff said.

“Not love?” Loki said with a sneer.

Romanoff just looked at him as the limo pulled into the parking garage next to Stark Tower and drove to the area blocked off by security. The vehicle passed through it with no hassle. “You already know what I think about love.”

It was for children. And Darcy was still a child, all caught up in things she could not understand. Loki closed his eyes and handed Romanoff the phone. They had already arrived. There was no point in calling now. He didn’t even know what he would say.

Loki sighed as Thor opened the door, waited for Jane to disembark, and the two of them strode to the private entrance into the tower and then up to the elevator. Barton quirked a grin and hit the button for the eightieth floor after they were all inside. Romanoff crossed her arms and relaxed against the wall. Loki twitched. He didn’t know her like this. Where was the professional, the woman who’d defied his every expectation- He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He refused to allow his uncertainty to rule him.

The door pinged open. Stark stood in a small foyer. A rather large abstract picture hung from the back wall and there were two doors opposite each other. Stark gestured at one as Loki stepped out of the elevator at Thor’s urging.

“I set this one up for you,” he said. “Figured you’d want it if you ever came to visit.”

Loki’s breath caught. Such generosity for someone who had harmed him, threatened him. Thrown him to his death.

“Thor wouldn’t hear of anything less if he’d had a place and you didn’t.” Stark handed Loki a metal key, voice still light and unconcerned. “Um, JARVIS can open the door, but I figured you’d prefer something more tangible.”

Loki blinked. Well, yes. The ability to have a door to lock, to keep people out on a whim- Stark’s eyes were too dark with memories. And Loki had been hiding on Midgard when Tony Stark disappeared in Afghanistan.

Loki couldn’t hide the faint tremble in his hands as he opened the door. Stark frowned, but didn’t say anything. Good. Loki knew giving into his current urge to verbally eviscerate someone would be unwise. This was not Asgard and he was lost. Sympathy turned far too easily to pity in his mind and pity was inexcusable.

“Come down to the common floor,” Tony said just before Loki shut the door in his face. “We hang out there a lot. And feel free to change what you want - it’s your place.”

Loki’s footsteps echoed as he explored the apartment. He stayed the longest in the kitchen, looking over the appliances. His hands ached to do something. His hands trembled. Eir had not pronounced him healed enough to do much with fine motor skills. He strode from the kitchen without saying a word.

So Stark had said this apartment was his? Loki looked around and began to smile. There were indeed things he wanted to change. He stood and again wandered through the sparsely-furnished apartment, talking to JARVIS as he went. The tiny office would be space enough for a decent library. He paused in the kitchen and smiled. That would remain as it was, even if the decorations had to change. He was not fond of the inoffensive black-and-white motif. He liked his kitchen to be warm, earth colours and inviting. The kitchens in Asgard were filled with life. His would be the same.

He cast illusions in almost every room, deciding what colours to change and what type of furniture would best fit the spaces. He lost himself for hours in the work, finally finishing in the sitting area before the fire. Miniature illusions of each room hung in the air. He spun them around with a finger. Fine motor control returned each day he took his medication. Only two more weeks and hopefully he would be done with the wretched potions forever.

Someone started knocking on the main door. Loki dashed away his illusions and stood, calling in a knife. He paced to the door and stooped slightly to peer out the peep hole. A dark-haired woman with glasses and wearing a pale blue pantsuit with an Avengers backpack slung over one shoulder.

 _Darcy_.

He yanked the door open as she raised her first to pound on it again. She blinked and lowered her hand.

“Loki!” Her grin lit her face.

The smile caught Loki and his breath fled. He remembered that smile, the long nights of studying and bantering as they sipped tea (or coffee or hot cocoa) in the dark hours of the winter. The laughter as he dragged her along on some simple mischief. The hesitance of them both as they pulled apart after their first kiss. Loki stared at Darcy, at her beautiful exuberance, and suddenly doubted himself. How could he ever live up to what she saw in him, whatever that was? How could he suddenly want to toss that away because he felt sorry for himself? How could he ever deserve her? And yet she still called to his heart against his past weeks of railing against his helplessness. Her friendship had meant everything to him during his time on Midgard. He’d been courting her before he fell from the Bifrost. Could he ever deny that sentiment?

“Darcy.”

They looked at each other, Loki cataloging every change since he’d last seen her. Business suit. Hair braided back in a neat bun. But the same glasses and the same smile. The same light in her eyes. The moment broke when she stepped over the threshold. She wrapped her arms around him. Loki held her tight and kissed the top of her head. Darcy’s embrace banished the dark thoughts from his mind. He did not ever want to let her go.

“No wonder Tony didn’t say what was going when he told me to come up here after I got off work-,” she said with a slight shake of her head. “You came back.”

”Whatever made you think I would not?”

Darcy stepped out of his arms and ushered them both inside his apartment before closing the door. “Because I know you, Loki.”

He shook his head. “You knew Luke.”

And she glared at him with crossed arms. So suddenly defensive. Fire flared in her eyes.  
“I spent hours talking to your brother when you were missing. About your love of learning and pranks and your magic. How you would rather spend hours alone reading than improving your war craft with other warriors. How you were the silent counselor and a wise advisor with a prickly temper. Yeah, I might have known you as Luke, but ‘Luke’ reminds me an awful lot of ‘Loki.’” She paused with a tilt of her head. “I don’t think you were doing all that much to hide.”

In all the best ways, Darcy had not changed. And for that, Loki was grateful. He wrapped his arms around her again.

“There are differences,” he said into her hair.

Darcy relaxed against him. “Then I’ll learn them.”

But what differences would she learn? Loki shoved the thought away. It wasn’t important right now. Darcy was. She always would be.


	2. Through the Cracks

Darcy rushed into room and immediately looked through the wall of windows and up to see the dark shape of Loki still standing on the Iron Man launch platform. He stared off into the distance and across the city. She winced slightly. Lights filled the view, but there were still far too many swatches of darkness. Whyever he’d stormed out there, that sight probably wouldn’t help.

Tony and his friend Rhodey had turned to look at her, probably because of her entrance. Rhodey’s brow was furrowed, but it was Tony who stepped forward in his Iron Man suit.

“I swear, I have no idea what set him off and he didn’t say - there’s some type of force field blocking us from going out there,” Tony said quietly. “Bruce is down in the lobby but... If he decides to- I can at least try and catch him before-”

Darcy’s nails bit into her palms as she stared out at Loki’s unmoving silhouette. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she desperately blinked them away. Then she gave a short, jerking nod.

Tony tried and failed to give her a reassuring smile before snapping the faceplate down. He walked away towards Rhodey, but Darcy continued to look out the window. She didn’t move as the sounds of whirring machinery and the hiss of the suit filled the too-quiet space.

_I don’t know what to do._

Darcy swallowed the thought down and turned away from the window. She couldn’t watch this right now. She wanted to go out there and shake some sense into him, force field or not. Not even Loki had been denying that he had some mental issues he was working through. And Darcy, all she’d ever had to deal with before was an alcoholic grandfather. Even after her grandmother died in that car crash, Grandpa hadn’t been that- he’d settled for the oblivion of alcohol. Being actively suicidal and she hadn’t known, hadn’t the slightest suspicion- 

She needed to be doing something. Anything. Darcy walked behind the bar and grabbed the tea kettle from the cupboard. She filled it with water and set it on the two-burner stove. And waited. And waited. A watched pot never boils, the same with tea kettles, and the incrementally slow passage of time made Darcy’s heart ache. She couldn’t see out the windows from where she stood.

Tea. What kind of tea? Darcy pulled a drawer open and stared at the contents. Bruce’s neat handwriting filled every label of the compartments. Green teas, white teas, black teas. Rooibos, every type of herbal she knew and then some. Chai. Her mind flashed back to cold winter nights studying, a cup of tea filling the air with the scent of spice, and a brief expression of relief as he drank from the cup before diving back into his books. Darcy pulled out a packet of loose tea and put it in the cup she’d pulled out. Now, how exactly did someone make chai when it didn’t come in a tea bag?

She stared at it for a moment, then grinned. Something flashed in the tiny glass screen embedded into the wall over the countertop. Instructions. She hadn’t even asked yet. She whispered a soft thanks to JARVIS and set to work.

The scent of cardamom and cinnamon drifted through the air as Darcy poured the warm milk in. She stirred the tea and smiled. She might not be able to do anything else right now, but damn it she could make tea. She almost dropped the milk when Loki appeared in front of the bar and speared Iron Man with his heated glare.

His voice came low and rough. “I have no need of your paltry assistance or your suit.” He whirled around and fixed Darcy with the same glare. “Nor do I need your pity.”

He was gone before they could say anything. Tony snapped his faceplate up and stared at Darcy. He was just this side of too pale. Rhodey gaped at Darcy. “He just vanished.”

“It’s called teleportation,” Tony said. He took a minute to remove the suit, but still remained pale. “I thought he didn’t like doing it. Took too much energy.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. She took a deep breath and stared at the mess she’d made of the bar. She calmly put the milk carton back in the fridge and dumped the tea into the sink. It swirled down the drain in a river of pale brown. She checked to make sure all the appliances were off and then walked to elevator. Rhodey only glanced her way before turning back to Tony, who appeared off in another world.

Darcy slumped against the elevator wall after the door closed. She shut her eyes and breathed. What the hell? What was she supposed to do now?

“Mister Odinson has returned to his apartment,” JARVIS said into the silence, making her jump. “Do you wish to visit him?”

Her voice cracked. “Yes.”

She stepped out of the elevator and looked at the small foyer. Thor’s apartment was on the left and he wasn’t even there. If he had been, she wouldn’t have been called. But no. He was in Asgard. What time was it there anyway? She shook the thought away and faced Loki’s apartment. The door was already open and he stood there, chin high and eyes icy. Either JARVIS had alerted him or he’d heard the elevator.

Darcy refused to fidget under the weight of Loki’s stare. His entire body almost vibrated with the tension showing in his clenched fists. She just met his gaze calmly. His eyes narrowed.

“And what, precisely, did you think coming here would solve?” he almost snarled. “Making your soothing teas out of chamomile in an attempt to calm me-”

”It was chai,” Darcy snapped back. “Not chamomile or anything else like it.”

Loki’s shoulders relaxed just enough for Darcy to breathe easier. He turned and walked away, but left the door open. She toed her shoes off and shut the door behind her with a loud click as she turned the lock home.

He’d retreated to the living room. Darcy stopped for a moment as Loki settled himself before the fireplace he’d somehow managed to talk Tony into installing, even if it didn’t burn wood. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and padded over. Loki didn’t move as she settled next to him.

“Who called you?” Loki asked.

Darcy barely heard him. “Tony.”

Loki looked at her and then back to the fire. ”I wasn’t going to jump.” He swallowed. “I’ve already fallen once. It is not an experience I care to repeat.”

But this one would have had a definite ending. Darcy reached over and placed her hand over his. Loki tensed and moved it off. He jerked his head once in negation. Okay, too soon. She resisted the urge to sigh. All the research she’d done into PTSD was of little help. There was nothing in there about dealing with aliens and differing body chemistries and coping methods. Fucking Chitauri.

“Why chai?”

”It used to be your favorite when you were stressed out,” Darcy said. She carefully did not look at him. Sometimes, for reasons known only to him, Loki hated being reminded of Luke. Sometimes, not always. Not most of the time. All their friends still knew him as Luke. He didn’t seem to mind then. Or maybe he was just acting his unconcern for it. Her stomach sunk. Was it all acting?

“It still is,” Loki said quietly.

She was not going to offer to make some now. He _would_ view that as pity. Darcy sighed and leaned over to rest her head on his shoulder. He let her. His bony shoulder bit into her cheek. She shifted into a more comfortable position and forced herself not to smile when he carefully slid his arm around her waist.

The fire flickered for what felt like hours before Loki said anything else. There was no way Darcy was going to start a conversation as prickly as he was tonight. Silence was better; he’d always worked things through in his mind before speaking.

“I promise you,” Loki whispered in her ear. “You will never - they will never hurt you. They will never hurt anyone again.”

And just how are you going to manage to do that? Darcy wondered. Loki fell silent and stood before she had the chance to ask. He walked into the kitchen and busied himself doing something. Darcy stayed on the floor and stared at the fire. Loki smiled at her when he walked around the counter. He held two steaming mugs.

She took hers and sipped while he settled back on the floor. Hot chocolate. She didn’t need the comfort right now (but later tonight, whenever she crawled into bed, Darcy knew all she would see was the moment she ran out of the elevator. She couldn’t think about it now, if he’d actually been serious and dove over the side. If Tony hadn’t been wearing the suit and Bruce stationed in the lobby as back-up because he’d once mentioned that he’d been in that situation and Darcy you’re starting it now so _stop_ -).

Darcy fought her mind for something to say that wouldn’t trigger Loki again. The rich smell of the hot chocolate and the scent of chai mingled in the air. Loki wasn’t upside down on the couch, but it was dark and from the floor it was possible to ignore the city below and just look across to the dim dark line of the horizon at night. To pretend that something was normal.

“Do you ever miss Culver?” she finally ventured.

Loki barked a laugh. “I miss the freedom of it. My obligations were few.”

”Yeah,” Darcy said. Back when she didn’t have to worry about her job and the way they’d begun to treat her. Back when he didn’t have to worry about the embassy and the consulates in other nations. Back when they could complain about homework and awful professors with impunity and their only collective worry was keeping up their GPAs.

It was an impossible dream. They weren’t those people anymore. And in some respects, Loki had never been that person. It still tripped Darcy up sometimes. Luke was standoffish, but polite. Loki was polite on the best of days and tended towards cruel at his worst. Second son and prince, yeah, but also something she’d be willing to label an alien version PTSD. Add in the fact that her roommates had no freaking idea that Luke was Loki and her job working in the PR office of the new Asgardian embassy to the UN and she sometimes couldn’t say anything when Antonio asked her how work was going or how Luke was doing. He at least understood about the first and well, he knew Luke had vanished for two years doing who-knew-what somewhere. But the truth? Telling it was laughable. And made her want to cry.

“Are you ever going to tell Antonio and Charday and the rest?” Darcy asked. “Once the treaty is signed in December, your face is going to be plastered all over the news.”

“Do you think I am unaware?” Loki bit out. Darcy blinked at him. Back to the snappiness. Something was bothering him. And it came pouring out.

“Do you think I don’t know how pathetic this is, to carry on this double life?” he snapped. Loki jerked to his feet and began pacing. “To pretend that nothing terrible happened to Luke, that it was a family emergency and then over a year spent in some distant foreign land out of contact? That I hadn’t meant to leave you thinking I was dead. That my family should have contacted you even if they didn’t think you were worthy of me?

“That I shouldn’t care this much for a silly human girl who likes cat videos, glittery Eighties fantasy movies, and studying ineffective governments? That my feelings for you will be mocked in Asgard, the prince falling for a human female that will live the tiniest percentage of my life and fade into dust and be eventually forgotten? That at least Jane has her intellect to speak of if Thor ever introduces her to the court and you have nothing but your faithfulness to my memory?

“That Asgard thinks I am at best an adopted monster, that the court wishes Father would send me to Jotunhiem where I so obviously belong? That I am the bringer of chaos, the world-ender-”

”Our legends are not yours!” Darcy scrambled to her feet and shouted over his tirade. “Thor told me that; Sif told me that when I first met her.” Loki glared at her, green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Why do you take what stories we’ve wrongly told about you as truths?”

“Is that not what I am?” Loki said, a trace of dark humour colouring his tone. “A liar to my best friend, a coward who ran away rather than face his enemy, a man who broke under the control of others and followed their every command?”

“Unwillingly.”

Loki snorted. “I would not have lasted much longer under their treatment, Darcy. Thor is under the impression that they wanted to break and ruin me. He is _wrong_.” 

He advanced on Darcy and bent his head to hers. He stood there breathing with his hands warm on her shoulders and all she could do was wrap her arms around him. Loki’s ragged breathing shook her. He never came this unglued. Ever.

“There is a difference in mastering someone bodily, to break and torment them as a goal before killing them,” Loki said. His voice cracked halfway. He swallowed and continued talking. “It is another to torment them enough to twist them to willingly follow them and their commands, to be remade in their image. The chance to take Asgard could not be discarded.”

“They had to control you.”

”If the Tesseract had not awakened, Darcy,” Loki said. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “If they had not needed my immediate knowledge and magic - in another year, the control would not have been necessary.”

Darcy hugged him tighter. It was clearly not the response he’d been expecting; his hands had already fallen from her shoulders. Idiot. She was never going to walk away from him, especially when he was tearing himself to bits over this. Why did he ever think that she would?

Because for all that his entire species were practically immortal, Loki wasn’t a god. He could be so, so wrong. And he was wrong about this.

Darcy let out a shaky breath. She didn’t know how it felt to be him. She’d never actually fought in a true battle. She’d never been tortured. She’d never been mind-controlled. The only trauma she had to her name was an alcoholic grandfather who threw things at walls when drunk. It was nothing compared to his life. She didn’t have the training or the resources to help him. But she had ears and a heart.

“Loki,” she said. “If you ever need to talk - about this, about _anything_ \- I will drop everything and come. I will listen. Any time of the day or night. I will be here.”

His jaw was clenched, but Loki nodded once. Darcy let out a shaky breath. At least he hadn’t stormed away. He might have. He would have had she been anyone else except Thor. And maybe even then.

He didn’t say anything further, just stepped away from her and went over to the couch. He sprawled on it. Darcy followed and settled against his side. They stared at the fire for a long time, silent. Loki’s hand ran through her hair occasionally and Darcy eventually dozed off.

She woke when Loki gently shook her shoulder. Darcy climbed to her feet with a yawn, knees and ankles creaking and popping. She hadn’t sat in the same, now uncomfortable, position for that long in ages. It was worth it. Loki, as tired as he was, looked better. Less haunted.

And he wasn’t willing to let her go home so late. Loki dug in his closet for a giant t-shirt that dwarfed even him. Horses pranced across the front. Darcy cracked a grin. “Tony?”

Loki rolled his eyes and motioned her to the bathroom. “Sleipnir. The stories you mortals believed.”

The ones that he was talking himself into believing. At least in the shower she could cry. Darcy pulled the t-shirt on and braided back her wet hair. The thought of opening up a cupboard to pull out the cheap hairdryer she kept here just seemed like too much effort now. It would take forever to dry and all she wanted now was a good few hours worth of sleep before whatever time Loki’s alarm went off. Some ungodly hour probably, considering he was such a morning person.

“What are you reading?” Darcy asked as she left the bathroom to say good night on her way to the living room.

Loki looked up from his book. “Were you intending to sleep on the couch?”

”Yeah,” Darcy said. “Isn’t that where I usually end up?”

He remained silent. Darcy breathed, finally noticing that he was on the far side of the bed and that the covers were still turned down. He was waiting on her.

That was new. Sex really wasn’t in the picture right now. But she smiled. Sharing a bed didn’t need to be anything else but the comfort of a loved one beside you. She slid into the bed and pulled up the covers.

Loki placed the book on the night stand and leaned over to kiss her. She arched into it as his hand slid down to rest on her hip. He kissed her again and lay back down, pulling her tight against him. Darcy closed her eyes with a smile.

She woke with the unfamiliar weight of someone’s leg draped over hers and slowly turned. The sun came in through the window at a rather odd angle. Darcy glanced over at the clock, noted it was almost noon, and snuggled back into Loki’s embrace. This was too comfortable to move from.

Loki eventually moved and stretched. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Darcy said as he ran his fingers through sleep-matted hair. “Or what’s left of it.”

He stumbled to the bathroom and Darcy groaned to herself. It was warm and comfy where she lay. It was Saturday. Did she have to get up? Yes, if she wanted breakfast. Or lunch, technically. Whatever. She was hungry and Loki was probably going to end up making something. (He stress cooked. Oddly, so did Clint. It made for some very interesting meals around the tower on the very rare occasions when everyone was present. And yummy ones.)

JARVIS informed her after breakfast that the clothes she’d shoved down the laundry chute were clean and hanging outside the door. She grabbed them and changed. She really needed to start keeping some clothes over here. Loki took the giant t-shirt from her with a sardonic expression and a muttered command to JARVIS to burn it as he shoved it into the chute. Darcy laughed.

They settled to eat at the small counter dividing the kitchen from the living room. Darcy devoured her pancakes and stole the last orange from the bowl. Something buzzed nearby. Loki glanced around, then dug into the pocket of Darcy’s coat that she’d draped over one of the stool backs last night.

“You have a message,” he said as he handed her phone over. He took the orange from her plate and began peeling it.

Darcy swiped it open and groaned. “Not one,” she said. “Twenty-three.”

She flipped through them. Some were from her parents, wondering if she was watching the ABC special on the Battle of New York and the Avengers. Darcy blinked. That had premiered last night. She’d forgotten. The majority of the texts were from her friends. 

 

-Darcy, is everything okay? You ran out of here like a bat from hell.

-Is Luke okay? You mentioned him as you ran out the door.

-Charday and Karissa came all the way from Boston for the weekend and you’re skipping out on us.

-It’s been two hours. Where are you?

-The special was awesome. I hope you didn’t miss it, wherever you are. I mean, seriously, Captain America!

-And Thor. Team. Of. Hotness.

-I know you’re all wrapped up with Luke but you can at least appreciate a six-pack wrapped up in armor. The biceps, the hair!

-Apparently he has a brother, too. I wonder if he’s just as hot.

-Damn, no pictures. But given the whole alien prisoner thing, understandable. Bet he is as hot as Thor, though.

-Darcy, where are you? Can you come home sometime soon?

-Please?

-Darcy? We’re getting really worried here. Where are you?

-Seriously, we need to talk if you’re just going to stop responding.

-Are you ignoring us? It’s almost one in the morning. Please let us know you’re okay.

-Darcy, that question. I don’t think we can wait much longer. You aren’t contacting us.

-Is it Luke? Did something happen to him?

-Seriously, if he’s pulled another disappearing act, I’m gonna

-Darcy, I don’t care what time it is, call us! As soon as you get this! 

 

Darcy dropped the phone on the counter and leaned against the back of the barstool with a groan. Loki glanced at her, then picked up the phone after wiping his hands on a paper towel. It was still open to the wall of texts. He stilled at the last one.

He set the phone down gently and clenched his jaw. Darcy grabbed his hand. “I need to call them, okay? But I won’t tell them what happened.”

Loki’s mouth twitched into a faint smile. He brushed her forehead with a kiss. “Thank you.”

He pulled out of her grasp and slid the plate of orange slices over. Then he straightened his shoulders. Darcy grabbed a slice and shoved it in her mouth. Loki got down from the stool and dumped the dirty breakfast dishes in the sink. Darcy polished off the orange and added the plate to the pile. They rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher without saying a word.

Darcy sighed as Loki walked back into the living room. What was she going to tell her friends? She could either lie, which absolutely sucked but she’d been doing it for the past few years anyway so what difference would a few months make anyway or she could remain silent and let them natter on and continue to worry. Which was pretty much a confirmation that something had happened. She shoved her glasses up her nose. She really hated her life right now.

Antonio picked up on the second ring. “Darcy, thank god. Where the hell have you been? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. In the background she could hear voices and barely managed to understand Antonio.

“But where where you?” Antonio barked. “You didn’t respond to any of our texts. Hell, I even called a few times.”

Darcy shrugged, even if he couldn’t see it. She glanced over at Loki, who stood in front of the windows, a silhouette against the brightness, and sighed. “I was at Luke’s, okay? He wasn’t having a good night.”

Silence on the other end. Antonio must have put her on speaker. Yup. Charday came across loud and clear.

“Honey, do you need us to come over there?” she said. “If he needs help...”

“No,” Darcy said before the offer could get any further. None of their friends had reacted well to Loki (well, Luke) returning with little explanation and them picking off where they’d left off. Hell, Karissa was still only barely civil and all they did now was an occasional text or even briefer phone call. “We’re fine. He’s doing better now.” She sighed and turned to lean against the counter. “I’ll be back soon, guys. Stop worrying. Everything’s fine.” Silence before a flurry of voices. “Later.”

Darcy hung up before anyone was coherent enough to stop her and dropped the phone on the counter. She left the kitchen and walked over to Loki. He glanced down at her, then returned to staring across the city.

Everything wasn’t fine and she didn’t know how to fix it.


	3. Trying to live and love

Loki flicked his fingers to light the candle on the shelf behind the sink. It flared to life and burned steadily. He frowned at it, noting it would need to be replaced soon.

He filled the tea kettle with water, prepared the pot and cup, and leaned against the counter while waiting for it to boil. He could use magic to speed the process. Loki curled his hand into a ball. No, he would not cheat on this and lessen the comfort of the ritual. Ritual was perhaps not the right word, but Loki did not care. He wanted his tea and the soothing warmth of the cup in his hands and the brightness of the rising sun.

The kettle whistled. Loki moved it off the heat and poured the water into the waiting pot to let the leaves steep. He stood at the counter, counting off the minutes. The passage of such a short time danced across his nerves. It had not been so long ago that minutes had not mattered. He steadied his hands enough to pour the tea into the waiting mug. They’d started shaking again by the time he made it into the living area and its east-facing windows. The few dim stars visible shown above the glittering New York skyline. The sun would not rise for several hours.

Loki collapsed onto the giant overstuffed chair Thor preferred on his visits and curled up in it. The chair engulfed him as he sipped his tea. It was not the hard, jagged rock of his nightmares. He finished the tea and clenched the cup closer. It took a moment before it was full again, a spell linking the cup to the pot until the latter emptied. Slowly, as slowly as he sipped his way through the pot, the tremors faded from his hands. Loki set the empty mug on the floor and leaned back in the chair, closing his eyes.

The sun would rise soon and another day begun.

It had surprised Loki when he first arrived on Midgard those years ago just how much he enjoyed preparing his own meals. He, of course, had learned to prepare meals in the wilds, whether on a hunt or adventure or in a possible battle situation. But to cook for the pleasure of it, to taste the new flavors of the many, varied Midgardian cuisines - he had not anticipated enjoying the task.

There were some fruit still remaining in the fridge and the overripe bananas on the counter. Loki stood, grabbed the cup from the floor, and went back to the kitchen. He sliced up the fruit he had to make a salad as the banana bread baked. He also started a new pot of tea.

After the bread was cool enough to eat, he sliced it and set the heel on a waiting plate. Loki piled on the fruit and settled at the counter. The quiet morning tea had helped, but he could not stop from mulling over how ridiculously confining his life was now.

Growing up as a prince of Asgard and second in line to the throne meant a constant awareness of what it meant to be in the public view. It was why he’d traveled so widely when he could. Journeying to other realms, to distant planets far away from Asgard, gave him a sense of freedom he could not find elsewhere. Loki glanced through the kitchen window. He missed it. The horizons here were too close and drew closer every day.

He shuddered and drew his mind away from those dark thoughts. All he had to do was walk out the door and call for Heimdall.

Or see Darcy. She made the day brighter.

He wanted her here, no matter that he should push her away. She was human, distractible, had no sense of appropriate timing about minor complaints (though he suspected that was how she dealt with stressful situations. Complaining about the minor meant she was not panicking.), loved defending her ideals. And yet: she was loyal. She’d never once doubted him while he was under Chitauri control. He’d talked to Fury and the Avengers enough to know that.

Loki cleaned up the kitchen before going to the tiny office he’d turned into a library and picking out several books. He took the small stack to the living room and settled on the couch. New York shown in the early morning sunlight.

But the walls closed in on him. Loki shifted against the couch, burrowing into it as he closed the first book. He cradled his head in his hands. The sun coming in through the windows, the soft comfort of the couch; they did nothing for him. He needed to leave.

He abandoned the books and shifted out of his sleep clothes into something more appropriate if very casual for him. It was fine. Casual for him was well within standards of human public dress codes.

He headed out alone from the Tower. With Tony and Pepper currently in California, Steve and Clint and Natasha off on missions, it was just him and Bruce. And Bruce had a job in Tony’s labs. He would likely not appreciate the interruption and Loki did not desire company.

He walked down 42nd Street to Bryant Park and found an empty table. The autumn sun warmed him as much as his pot of tea had early this morning. The Other could only whisper to him in dreams, not here in this place. Loki sighed and looked over at the side of the library building, shining a dingy white. He missed Asgard, and though the court and all its accompanying gatherings would require his complete attention and usual aggravation, he anticipated going home and seeing the golden palace gleaming in the light and the ever-present pinpricks of stars in the sky. Earth’s sky was far too monochrome. No wonder Jane wished to see other worlds when she finished constructing her bridge.

A stray yellowing leaf drifted in front of him and landed on the bare table. He frowned and brushed it away. It had been nice, at first, but the small park was hampered by looming buildings and the noise from the traffic made the skin on the back of his neck crawl. No, the raven watching from the nearest tree. It squawked and flew away, spiraling up into the sky before vanishing. Loki scowled. He knew his responsibilities and so would not abandon them. And Eir would have his head if he missed his final appointment. He’d finished the last of his medicines earlier and he wanted to never go back on them. Loki glanced down at his hands. Memories made them shake now, not slowly-healing damage.

Loki made a brief stop on the way back to the tower at a cafe that Steve had recommended. It had been damaged in the Chitauri attack, like so many other things, but since restored. And given this was New York City outside of Grand Central and Stark Tower, busy. Loki eyed the paparazzi eating outside and decided to order to go. He looked much like any businessman out for lunch and he’d taken precautions to not be seen in the vicinity of the Asgardian Embassy (the ability to teleport was quite useful, if exhausting), but he felt the risk of staying was unnecessary. The paparazzi never saw him.

He ran a load of dishes and further tidied, if Darcy wanted to stay in his place instead of her apartment for the two weeks he planned on being home. It was much closer to her work than the subway ride in from Brooklyn. If there were other reasons she would desire to stay, they would remain firmly in her own mind. He was not willing to ask. 

It took scarcely an hour to pack. He needed very few of his clothes here; he’d hardly brought his entire wardrobe to begin with. A few of his reference books, the copies of the various drafts of the treaty he’d made on the sly, a jar of the high-quality chocolates Pepper had introduced him to that Loki knew his mother would adore. Asgard, after all, had no chocolate. And his favorite teas.

Loki poked his head into Bruce’s lab to say a brief farewell. The man pushed his glasses up his nose, smiled, and wished him a pleasant visit home. A wisp of sadness touched Bruce’s tone, but Loki pretended not hear it. Some people could never go home, wherever or whatever home was.

Loki went back to his room to pick up his trunk and did a brief teleport to the embassy. He set the trunk down and breathed for a moment. He then straightened his shoulders and summoned more formal Asgardian wear. The ambassador and half the embassy’s staff joined them in the tiny courtyard behind the building.

“Heimdall,” Loki said. “Open the Bifrost.”

A rainbow of rushing light took them away. Loki blinked against the brilliance and smiled. Odin stood just outside the observatory to welcome them home, the first embassy on Midgard in over a thousand years. He greeted the ambassador and thanked them and his staff for there work, then sent them on ahead.

Loki looked at his father. “Father.”

”Son,” Odin said. He placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Your brother is currently ensconced with his advisors. Come, tell me your impressions of Midgard.”

Had Thor not mentioned anything of his own experiences? Loki eyed his father and decided it didn’t matter. His own impressions also counted.

“Well,” Loki said as he vanished his trunk until he reached his suite. “Where should I begin?”

Odin chuckled, as Loki had intended. They walked onto the road together to their waiting horses and rode back to the palace. Loki regaled his father with tales the entire way.

Being home was both far better and, in some ways, worse than he expected. New York had nothing to compare with the golden palace and the fjord-filled city he was raised in, nor against the mountains surrounding the city. Snow touched the higher peaks.

Loki leaned against the rail of his balcony that night and sighed. He wanted Darcy to see this view across the city to the Bifrost and the stellar nurseries beyond, the stars shining in the blue sky of Asgard’s day and the brilliance of the nebulae at night. He wanted to make love to her under those stars. Loki’s hands tightened. He dreamed about it sometimes and thought about it at other times, the times she spent the night in his bed, whether because he didn’t want to be alone or whether because her work was only a few blocks away. He knew the press of her body against his and the soft warmth of her bare skin. But he was so very far from that comfort now.

But - there was something he could do. Before the court sat tomorrow, if he had the All-father’s permission, it was as near a command. The court still recognized his power even if his short time as king was long over. They would be forced to accept it against their wishes. Against their machinations. Loki was far from blind and even if he currently resided on Earth, he was still a Raven and they had their ways of communicating. Having a senior agent working in the embassy was a boon. And, Loki thought with a small smirk as he strode from his rooms, he delighted in knowing that in some respects, SHIELD would never know just how good Asgard’s intelligence gathering capabilities were.

The royal wing stretched across three floors of the palace, housing not only members of the family, but small quarters for their immediate servants and guards, guest rooms for those privileged few, a small kitchen for late night snacks (he’d found his mother in there more than once, sneaking the last honey cake), and private studies. Loki stopped a few feet from the half-open door of his father’s study when Odin began shouting.

“-do not belong here in Asgard!”

“Father, I am now king.” Thor’s firm voice thundered into the hall. Loki glanced around to see if anyone else was nearby and saw his mother pause as she walked into her solar. He dearly wanted time alone with her, but that desire was weighed by the argument he was currently eavesdropping on. Not that it was hard to do.

“And because you are now king, I can only advise,” Odin’s voice quieted the slightest fraction. “Your interest in this human woman will only end badly. She will live a hundred years and then she will be gone. Would you leave Asgard mourning a woman yet to be deemed worthy even of her presence here?”

Loki stiffened. Then he forced himself to relax, muscle by muscle. As Thor had pointed out, Odin no longer ruled here. He did not need to hear more.

“And what of Loki?” Thor asked. Loki stilled. “What of the woman he has been courting?”

“I would tell him the same as I have told you,” Odin said.

Enough.

His hands clenched as he began to move towards the door. A soft hand grabbed his. He pulled away from the touch and lifted his free hand to strike. He wavered and relaxed when his mother smiled at him. Then her expression shifted and she darted forward to yank the study door shut just as Thor exploded. The thick door muffled him to incomprehensibility.

Loki glared, took a breath, then let it slowly out. “Mother.”

“Come with me, son,” Frigga said as she threaded her arm through his. “We will have some of that tea you are so fond of and I will hear about your Darcy.”

Loki stared down at his mother. Her firm smile matched the determination in her eyes. He cast one look back at the study and sighed. In her own way, Frigga was as stubborn as Odin.

He gave in. “What would you like to know?”

Her smile eased his heart. “Everything.”

After a very pleasant hour, Loki changed into his nightclothes with slow, exhausted movements and sunk onto the thick mattress. The scent of dried flowers drifted from the sheets and Loki just knew his mother had tucked a satchel of them somewhere. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Mother at least understood.

She understood and could do nothing. Loki hissed long and slow before pulling the blankets over his shoulders. Tomorrow. He would conquer this problem tomorrow. If he stormed into the Father’s study demanding - demanding what, precisely? Public acknowledgment? Darcy had not been a factor in his official removal to Midgard two and a half months ago. Politics, the murmured whisperings of the court, the assassination attempts against him for being Jotun-born that never made it close, contempt for being weak enough not to fight his captivity. If any person of the court knew of his relationship with her, no one had ever mentioned it. There would have been talk, yet no rumours had reached his ears.

Loki sighed and rolled onto his side. He absently brushed a strand of hair off his face and squeezed his eyes shut. Darcy should be curled beside him. Not even a day and he already missed her. He drifted to sleep with fond thoughts of her.

The dream hit hard and fast. Loki jerked to his feet and stood barefoot on the stony ground. Across the small space rock climbed, highlighted the barest shade of violet-blue.

“You failed us.”

Loki stiffened. His hands brushed against his sleep tunic. The soft cloth grounded him. Even if that was the Other and this not some nightmare conjured by his subconscious (it had to be a nightmare, Eir had removed the neural link, it was gone and there were no remnants), he was not there. He would wake up and be safe.

“I refuse to apologize for that,” Loki said. He turned and smiled at the Other. “I rejoice that your army was destroyed and the Tesseract moved from your reach.”

”Do you think we cannot still open that door?” the Other stepped closer and raised a hand. 

“With all of Asgard arrayed against you?” Loki said, keeping a wary eye on the upraised hand. “I think not.”

“You will find us a way.”

”I am no longer commanded by you,” Loki snarled.

The Other chuckled and moved. Loki barely saw it approach and froze at it touched his head. He stiffened, but no pain came. He resisted the urge to flinch away. The pain would come; it always did in the end.

“And how do you expect to resist when I know your every weakness?” the Other said into his ear as his hand tangled in Loki’s hair. He yanked, drawing Loki’s head back and baring his throat. The Other eyed it.

Loki twitched. This was a dream. This was his dream, no matter that somehow the Other, that damn creature, had managed to invade his mind ( _again and again and it would never end he was always there at the edge of things_ ).

A twitch of his hand summoned a knife. Loki ignored the sharp pain as he turned, yanking his own hair out of his head. He shoved the knife deep between a join in the Other’s armour and watched as the alien stumbled back. Its image wavered and vanished.

The end of the vision-dream snapped Loki awake. He lay on his back, gasping for breath, and pushed himself onto his elbows. Sweat stained his tunic. Loki stumbled out of bed, thankful for perpetually warm floors, and made his way to his private bathing chamber. He scrubbed down briefly and then immersed himself in the hot water.

Remembering that place always made him feel cold. He stayed in the bathing pool until the sun rose. For the second night in a row, sleep had made itself an enemy.

Loki picked at his breakfast, ignoring Thor’s curious inquiries, and escaped as soon as he could form an excuse. As much as he desired to talk with his father about Darcy, to gain his approval of the relationship even if he had not even dared think of mentioning it to his brother and king, he would only end up yelling the mood he was in. He was so tired.

His wandering steps took him to the palace library. He paused outside the carved golden doors, then opened one and went inside. Shelves stretched towards the ceiling far above. The smell of old books made Loki smile and something inside him relaxed. Hogun emerged from an aisle, holding one book. They nodded at each other but neither spoke. Loki walked on, desperate and not knowing why.

He saw only a few people, some members of the court waiting for it to be called into session. For the most part, everyone ignored each other. Silence filled the immense chamber. He meandered among the shelves, seeing books he’d read long ago and smiling. Old friends. He took one from the shelf and settled in his favorite reading nook.

People could not have forgotten in such a short amount of time that his favorite place in the palace was the library. Loki shifted on the couch at the sound of hushed voices. He slid a leather bookmark in to mark his place and set the book down.

“Do you think he’ll show for court?” a woman asked. “Or will he continue hiding on that backwards planet? Ashamed to show his face for too long. Why the All-father adopted a Jotun brat-”

”- or why they decided to hide it from us -”

“-and his disgraceful captivity-”

”He was regent,” a second man said. “Imagine, that monster actually sat on the throne.”

They sounded as if they were only a few shelves down. Loki stood and stepped out of the alcove directly into their path. The three nobles came to a faltering halt. The woman paled as Loki looked them up and down.

“A monster, am I?” he asked softly. One of the men took a step back. Loki stepped forward. All three remained silent. “Answer me.”

“You - you’re Jotun,” the woman whispered.

“Since when does ‘Jotun’ equal monster?” Loki said almost playfully. “Did you believe the campaign stories of our elders, the ones about Jotun warriors and their terrors of the battlefield? The stories told of their depraved civilization?” He surveyed the three flinching nobles. His tone sharpened, turned vicious. “And none of you even looked to see if those stories were true. Look around. These shelves are filled with the history of Jotunhiem. Information waiting to be discovered.” He stepped forward again. “You willingly delude yourselves into believing children’s horror stories and yet you call me a monster?”

The three of them quailed before his wrath. Loki felt a stab of bitter victory. They considered his words out of fear, nothing more. One of the noblemen inclined his head and took the other two by the arms. He dragged them away.

Loki returned to his alcove and stared down at the book he’d been reading. His peace had been shattered. He scowled and grabbed it to take back to his room. Court would start in less than an hour and he needed to find something to wear. Something beyond reproach, something purely Asgardian.

And there was little chance now of Darcy being accepted. If the court gossiped about his adoption in such terms, what about the rest of the populace? Thor might be able to talk Asgard around to a human bride. Loki could not. Not even a human woman would be a fit wife for a monster.

He knew hundreds of swear words and not one fit his situation.

He sat through the morning court and did his best not to glare at everyone gathered in the chamber. The nobility’s views did not always line up with the general populace. There was a reason that Thor had visited Earth multiple times to help assist in negotiating the treaties. Of all the matters before the court, the two most controversial were the treaties with Jotunhiem and the multinational one with Midgard’s various governments. Odin had quietly told Loki the morning he left for Midgard before the court sat for the autumn session that it would be better for him to be elsewhere during the discussion and signing of the Jotun treaty. Avoid calls of favoritism at best and accusations of treason at worst. 

Loki escaped to his quarters during the midday recess. Phrases from the varied speeches echoed in his ears as he strode the golden halls. Servants barely glanced at him and other people about flinched from his path. Loki gave a grim smile at that. Did his irritation show that strongly? Let the palace denizens avoid him. He had no use for them currently.

He glanced at his closet and threw open the door. Past the formal court robes and armor was the simple clothes he kept for some of his undercover missions for the Ravens. Not that he had went on them much over the past century. Thor’s exile had changed everything. But he kept them because sometimes he needed to not be himself.

“Loki?” His mother’s voice came from the room.

He stepped out of the closet in much simpler clothes and forced a smile. Frigga blinked, then smiled back. “I’ll make your excuses to the court.” She raised a hand to forestall any protests. “If you feel the need to disappear for the rest of the day, do so.” A slight frown touched her mouth. “Please don’t forget about your appointment with Eir later.”

Loki wouldn’t. It was too important. He grabbed a leather tie from his work table and pulled his hair back into a low tail, making sure it covered the scar left from that damn device. Frigga sighed when he stepped to the door.

“Son,”she said. “Is there anything you need that I can assist you with?”

No. Not even she would go past the All-Father and welcome Darcy into the household now, no matter how strongly she sympathized. And she could nothing against the darkness warring in his heart and the constant fear winding through his mind.

He shook his head and left. No one glanced at him; he resembled just another servant in his plain clothes and slightly hunched shoulders. He touched his hair every so often to make sure it still covered the scar. Loki glanced around and ducked into an alcove half-hidden behind a pillar. A simple illusion gave him additional protection.

He’d been remiss - how far had the details of his captivity spread? Midgard knew only that he was captured and tortured. Heavens knew what Jotunhiem has discovered through their spies, and the rest of the realms? He needed to talk with the Ravens. It was long past due.

It would have to wait until he felt steadier.

Steadier? Loki bit back a laugh. When would that happen? Never. Not even when the Other and Thanos and everyone who had hurt him was long gone to dust after dying in pools of their own blood. What they’d done to him would remain.

Loki slid into the servants’ passageways. They were the swiftest way for him to escape the palace. He left them in the courtyard and made his way down to the bridge to ground level. Or what passed as ground level in a city built upon crags surrounded by waterways. The main port caught his attention for a moment, the ships from across Yggdrasil and her environs calling out in an array of colour. Loki shivered after a second and walked on. He needed to go to a place where escape was not a temptation.

No one gave him a second look when he walked into a market. Loki knew they wouldn’t. After centuries of working with the Ravens, a plain set of clothing, an altered gait, and a simple illusion were enough to make people think ‘not Loki’. He stopped at a stall and paid for an Aelfhiem fruit. Agent Romanoff had been so successful in her career for much the same reasons, even if the art of magic was beyond her grasp. People knew her reputation but they did not know her. Loki smiled as he finished off the fruit and tossed it in a trash bin. A woman’s perceived vulnerability could very well be an asset. He had a lot to learn from the agent; he hoped Darcy was learning those lessons. She needed them more than he.

“-rumours that he’s courting a mortal!”

”Disgraceful boy, give that back to your sister-”

”-the prices of grain. Have you seen the weather forecasts for Vanahiem lately? It’s all talk of-”

“-there was a break-in last night at Odessa’s. Probably after the till-”

The everyday talk of the locals swirled through the air. People glanced at Loki, but didn’t say anything. Rumour might speak of Asgard being blond and big and loud (he’d give them the loud), but dark hair and slim builds weren’t that uncommon. Asgard attracted people from the far reaches of Yggdrasil and beyond.

The court touched in a few conversations, but only as much as it interfered in daily life. Hopes that the city officials could face off against the nobility long enough to get something done. Dreams of refurbished docks at one of the lesser ports. Complaints about the tourists wandering about because of course the busiest time in the Asgardian year was the perfect time to come the Realm Eternal. Worries about the new treaties with Jotunhiem and Midgard. Squibbles of treaty alliances and possible marriages. Hopes that perhaps the next time the court sat some of the imported food tariffs could be re-examined.

Very little attention was paid to the foreigners wandering around. The lower city was far more accustomed to visitors than the court. How else could trade be conducted? Still, wary glances were the norm when directed at the few Jotun wandering around.

Loki stiffened as someone fell into step beside him. He glanced over, then up. A Jotun on the shorter side - though still easily two heads taller than himself - smiled back. “Is there a place we could talk?”

“The nearest cafe,” Loki said. He kept to the gait he’d adopted and made his way over. He took a seat at an outdoor table and gave the waitress a simple request for a water and salad. He did not feel up to much else for luncheon. The Jotun settled in and ordered a roast. The waitress gave a small smile and scurried away.

“I will not say anything revealing,” the Jotun said as he held up his hand to prevent Loki from having the first word. “But our senses are different and keener than Asgardians. I know who you are.”

Loki stabbed at the just-delivered salad. His fork crunched the greens. “And who are you, if I might ask?”

“I am Helblindi, son of Laufey,” the Jotun said softly. He gave a small smile. “I am your brother by blood.”

Loki almost threw the fork. He eased his hold on it, still resisting the temptation to let loose with his temper. But the gentleness on the Jotun’s face only further enraged him.

“You are not my brother,” Loki hissed.

He cast enough money on the table to cover his meal, then stood and strode away through the crowd. He let its anonymity swallow him. Several times he glanced back, but Helblindi had not followed.

Loki’s temper cooled on the walk back to the palace, but it left unease in its wake. Why had Helblindi approached him in such a fashion? He was here as one of the Jotun diplomats; he could have asked for a meeting at any time he was present in the palace. It did not make sense.

He let it slip to the back of his mind as he walked through the palace to his rooms. He changed swiftly and was out again. He could arrive early to his appointment; Eir would see him the moment he walked into the healing chambers. And after that, the politics of a court feast. Two weeks and he could hardly wait for the court session to be over. He had little patience for it now.


	4. Baggage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been so busy (posting on the run, really), that I somehow completely forgot to credit my beta **Independence1776**. Sorry about that! She's wonderful and I should have thanked her sooner.

When Darcy said ‘family reunion over Thanksgiving’ and ‘please come with me or I’ll be devoured alive’ Loki imagined maybe twenty people and not the fifty plus crowding the house at the moment. Asgardian families were so much smaller.

They had arrived late Wednesday afternoon after a several hour car trip in a rented vehicle which barely accommodated Loki’s legs and made him complain the entire journey. Darcy finally bought a cup of coffee from a gas station and threatened to dump it in his lap if he didn’t shut up. Loki remained silent the rest of the trip and stared out the window as industrial development gave way to rural countryside and then back to suburbia. Darcy stopped at the beginning of her street and cursed exactly twice. Loki smothered his smile. Needless to say, Darcy parked the car far down the street from the house and they walked around the parked cars everywhere, carrying their luggage.

A teenager with a tousled hair and a Hulk sweatshirt opened the door. He raised an eyebrow and sighed. Loki just tilted his chin down to look at the boy. The child’s other eyebrow joined the first.

“Aunt Denise, Darcy and her boyfriend’re here!”

Darcy groaned and shoved her way inside. “Thanks, dweeb.”

The boy shrugged and slouched away. Loki shut the door after himself and unwrapped the scarf from his neck, leaving it draped on his shoulders. He shifted his grip on his suitcase.

“Let’s put our stuff in my room for now,” Darcy said. “Before the Spanish Inquisition arrives.”

Loki ignored the reference to that show their friends loved and peeked into the living room on their way to the stairs. Adults stood everywhere, some with small children attached at the hip. All the seats were taken. His eyes widened and he glanced up at Darcy halfway up.

“Is it too late to change my mind?” Loki asked, half-serious. “I think I would rather be at-”

“Darcy!”

Darcy closed her eyes and sat her suitcase down on a step. Loki steadied it with a quick spell as it teetered. Darcy didn’t notice as she brushed by him. 

“Hi, Mom,” she said with hug.

“Your father’s in the den with the other sports freaks,” her mother said. She smiled up at Loki. “Luke, you’ll be staying on an air mattress there when everyone leaves. My sister and her husband are in the guest room.”

Loki nodded. He’d slept on much worse. Bare ground on a variety of quests with his brother, straw bedding in stables during his wanderings, bare rock in a dark- he was not doing this on a staircase and not where strangers could see.

Darcy finally escaped her mother’s embrace and the went to store the suitcases in her room. She turned to leave after abandoning her case at the foot of her bed. Loki grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.

“The things I do for you,” he said with a small smile.

Darcy twisted to look over her shoulder ar him. His arms were still wrapped around her, pinning her back to him. She touched his left hand.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said. “You could have stayed at the tower.”

Loki shook his head. “You know the press will be all over the ‘first Avengers’ Thanksgiving together’.”

”Imagine Christmas.”

Loki shuddered. Midgardian press were worse than vultures. If they could not find a story, they made one up. Leeches, perhaps. Termites? No, leeches. Leeches that latched onto a story and drained it dry before doing it all again.

Darcy kissed his chin and squirmed out of his arms. “If we’re not down there soon, Granddad will give us hell.”

“Would he not regardless of our actions in the privacy of your chamber? If I’m recalling correctly, he was not too fond of me.”

”Lo- Luke!” Darcy unsuccessfully fought off a blush.

Loki grinned and swept out of the room. Darcy muttered something about impossible princes and followed.

Her grandfather did not threaten murder. He grunted at them and returned his attention to the television and the recorded football game. Darcy hurried him out of the room. Loki let her; Midgardian sports did not interest him. Too many rules and not enough bloodshed.

Darcy abandoned him in the kitchen, one of her cousins dragging her into a discussion about politics and the treaty signings next month. Loki sat out the conversation. He’d heard enough of it during court and from the people that worked at the embassy. Three more weeks and hopefully the ceaseless talk would end. Loki stifled his sudden snort of laughter. That thought was ridiculous. Politics meant ceaseless talk. He wandered out of the kitchen and found his way back to the formal living room. A few young children played with stuffed animals under the watchful eye of their parents. Perhaps. There would be trusted caretakers among such a large family. He sidled into a corner and just observed.

“So, Luke, what do you do for a living?”

Loki could have cursed at the sudden question. He could have lied, but this was Darcy’s family. And Luke had to answer this. Not Loki. Oh, if Thor could see him holding his tongue. He would laugh himself sick.

“I’m a freelance writer,” he said over the laughter of the children and their game. “But I have to pay my bills somehow, so I do contract work.”

And he did. It gave “Luke Ovesen” an existence if he ever wanted to fade back into the world, a surety the All-Father had insisted upon. Remembering one of the clauses in the treaty between Asgard and the nations of this realm soon to be signed, there was that possibility if he couldn’t talk his way around after that stunt Thor pulled before all the court. Telling the entire populace he wished to court a human- he was not thinking of that now. He made polite conversation for a few minutes before asking a question about the other man’s job.

Miguel began talking about how a vice cop worked and the conversation somehow shifted around to the logistics of law enforcement in a superhero world. Loki tuned him out and eventually rose to his feet at a natural break in the conversation. He escaped outside and breathed in the chill late autumn air. Most of the leaves had already fallen from the gigantic oak tree dominating the backyard from the middle of the garden. Branches hung bare over dead grass and dying bushes. They shown dark against the grey clouds dominating the sky. Loki glanced at them and looked away. It was too early and not cold enough yet for snow.

Twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked over to the concrete bench next to the dry fountain. He rolled his eyes at the cherubs - Darcy’s mother’s strange taste in garden ornaments had not changed over the past few years - and rested his elbows on his knees. The teenagers played soccer on the lawn half of the yard, the older boys dominating. He watched them for a bit and started to frown.

Darcy’s uncle had not meant to dredge up those half-forgotten memories. But the yells from the children altered and became shrieks from civilians and the sound of fire from the Chitauri weaponry and his own screams as they injected him with something that burned like fire as it coursed through his veins - The soccer ball bounced across the bench and landed behind the fountain after almost hitting Loki. The oldest boy, Miguel’s son, ran over.

“Sorry, sir,” he said with a gasp. “Can I get the ball back?”

Loki reached backwards and felt his fingers brush the ball. Typically, it spun out of his reach. He stood and grabbed it out from under the bush it rolled beneath. The black-and-white pentagons intrigued him.

“How is this game played?”

It was more a Thor question than a him question, but Loki did not want to sit outside under a tree and brood. Some form of exercise would do him well and something told him that if he started target practice with his knives Darcy’s mother would do her absolute best to kill him.

The boy looked startled as Loki tossed him the ball. It turned more skeptical as he glanced at Loki’s shoes.

“I can always buy new ones,” Loki said.

The boy grinned. “Okay. Umm . . . we’re not playing by any real rules. It’s just a pickup game. Two teams, two goals, kick the ball and you can’t touch it with your hands.”

By the time Darcy came outside to bring everyone inside for dinner, Loki had rolled the cuffs of his pants up and had grass stains down the front of his nice blue shirt from when he’d tripped over someone’s foot and went sprawling across the lawn. He grinned down at Darcy after she’d rounded up the children. Her eyes laughed, clearly pleased to see him so disheveled.

He wanted to kiss her.

Loki was bending down when he realized that people were looking out the window at them. He stopped and started to pull away. Darcy reached up and grabbed a handful of his hair. He yelped softly and glared at her.

“I don’t care,” she practically hissed. “I’ve long since given up caring what my family thinks about me. So I’m going to kiss my boyfriend in front of them. Okay?”

He glanced at their watchers, smiled, and leaned in again. Her hand loosened its grip as they gave the audience a show. Loki delighted in the shocked gasps and cries of ‘Denise, your daughter!’ and ‘Darcy, there are children around!’ From the way she deepened the kiss, so did she.

They finally separated and grinned at each other. Darcy grabbed his hand and they walked over to the back door together. Loki kept his smirk and met the eyes of anyone who dared glare at them. At Darcy. Loki knew her and could feel the slight tremble in her hand. She claimed she didn’t care about what her family thought, but Loki knew she was lying. 

He grabbed a box of a half-eaten supreme pizza for the two of them and dragged her up to her bedroom. Darcy sunk onto the bed with a slice and chewed for a moment.

“I don’t want to sleep by myself tonight,” she said.

Loki grabbed his third slice. “Nor do I.”

Darcy attempted a smile and failed. She returned to her pizza and nibbled at the edges. Loki sighed and made sure she ate the last slice. He hated seeing her so despondent and her appetite always failed when she fell into this mood. It was not common, thankfully, but he wanted to do something. He always did.

He stood up, leaving the empty pizza box on the floor, and sat next to her on the bed. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. They sat silent for a while before standing and heading back downstairs to dump the box in the trash.

Loki watched as Darcy pasted on her media face and made nice with her family. He watched from a corner of the living room where he’d hidden himself away. One of the teenaged boys sat beside him, engrossed in one of the handheld computer games that enraptured the younger generation. Loki eyed the bright, blocky graphics and deemed it a waste of his time.

Darcy eventually drifted upstairs as the number of people in the house diminished. But they would be back in the morning to watch a parade and a football game and to eat what even an Asgardian would deem a proper feast.

 

Loki woke and slowly pushed Darcy’s arm off his shoulder. He rolled out of bed and landed in a crouch. Darcy sighed and snuggled closer to the warm spot on the air mattress he’d vacated. Loki smiled and pulled the blanket up to her chin. He remained quiet as he walked through the dark room and into the kitchen. His fingers fumbled on the stove hood before finding the switch. He blinked; the light brighter than he was expecting.

He grabbed the last clean mug from the cupboard and filled it with water. Darcy’s mother had showed him where she’d placed the box of tea she’d bought him. It was not loose tea and there was no kettle, but it sufficed for the weekend.

The microwave beeped and Loki dropped a tea bag into the steaming water. He stood watching at the counter as the tea stained the water a warm cinnamon brown.

“I half-expected you to sneak into her room, Luke.”

Loki flinched as he flung the tea bag into the trash. Darcy’s mother stood in the doorway. She frowned and glanced into the den.

“I did not expect her to sneak downstairs into your bed.” She sighed and retied the belt on her bathrobe. “Let me make it clear, Luke - if you two are living together, I do not approve.”

Loki stared down into the murky depths of his tea. “We do not reside together, Mrs. Lewis.” Not permanently. Not yet.

”She is _in your bed_.”

His hands wanted to shake. Loki took a deep breath and a sip of tea. It scalded his tongue, still slightly too hot to drink. “We are adults in a serious, committed relationship, Mrs. Lewis,” Loki said.

Darcy’s mother stared at him for a moment, then marched into the kitchen and started yanking cupboards open. One slammed shut. Loki winced and glanced into the den.

“If I wake her, it’s for the better,” Mrs. Lewis said. “She can head back to her room.”

Loki finished his tea and left the mug in the sink. Mrs. Lewis continued her moving rampage, yanking mixing bowls out from cupboards and utensils from drawers. He stepped out of her way and observed. Out of the many kitchens he’d frequented over the past months, only the tower’s communal one and Clint’s had as many items as Mrs. Lewis was pulling out.

“I had so many hopes for my daughter,” Mrs. Lewis said. “She wanted to travel after her graduation, did you know? She wanted to see the world, change it for the better. She got her internship and then those aliens attacked New York and all her plans went out the window. And you went away for two years without a single word. She mourned you, Luke. She was the only one of us who thought you weren’t dead.”

Neither did my family, he thought, but remained silent as he heard a soft thud from the den and footsteps.

“Mom?”

Loki turned and smiled at Darcy. Her shirt hung off one shoulder and her hair was a complete mess. She blinked sleepy eyes behind her glasses. She squinted at Loki and smiled back.

“Young lady-”

”Mother, I’m an adult!” Darcy snapped.

Loki took a step back and leaned against the wall. Neither of them appeared to notice him at the moment. Loki remained still. If he moved, they would turn on him.

“I know you are, honey,” Mrs. Lewis said softly. “But I’m your mother. I’m going to speak up if I think you’re making a mistake. And believe me, sleeping with your boyfriend is.”

Darcy made a high-pitched shrieking noise. Loki raised an eyebrow. Stark could duplicate that noise and turn it into some kind of alarm easily. He did not know Darcy could reach that high a pitch.

“We didn’t have sex. Not _here_!”

Mrs. Lewis flushed red. “Darcy, someone could have heard you.”

Darcy groaned and attempted to pull her hand through her hair. A finger caught on a snarl and she yanked it loose with a grimace. Loki stepped away from the wall and moved behind her to pull her hair into a loose braid.

Silence reigned. He looked up and blinked. Mrs. Lewis wore the most bemused expression. She shut her mouth from whatever comment she was going to say and lowered the whisk she held in one hand. Loki finished the braid and tied it off with a touch of magic. It would hold until she found her brush, wherever she’d packed it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Mrs. Lewis said.

“He always does it,” Darcy said. Loki heard the smile in her voice as he set his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her on the top of the head and stepped away. She reached out and grasped one of his hands.

“Mom,” Darcy said softly. “There’s something we need to tell you. And Dad.”

Loki stiffened, but squeezed Darcy’s hand. They’d discussed this before and now that their friends knew, it was only right that her family did. Particularly given his own personal views on their relationship, knew hers were the same, and if he could somehow bring his father around, to get his family’s permission before daring to seek the king’s-

“No.” Mrs. Lewis just held up her hand. Exhaustion crept over her face as her shoulders slumped. “Darcy, can it wait? The house is full of people, I have a dinner to finish cooking, and if I mess anything up, my sister won’t stop going on about it for weeks. I cannot handle any more stress right now.”

“Okay, Mom,” Darcy said quietly. “But soon?”

“Yes, dear, soon,” she took a deep breath and eyed the two of them clutching hands. “I promise.” She straightened. “Now, are you going to help me start this dinner or not?”

Loki took it for the hint it was and pulled Darcy to the fridge. They stayed in the kitchen for an hour, anxious not to alarm Mrs. Lewis further, before packing up his bed and heading upstairs to get ready for the day. Loki took a quick shower after Darcy finished using the hot water. Loki smiled under the cold spray. That would be one thing he and Darcy would never fight over. He liked cold showers.

He needed to talk to Father, even if he knew Odin would never change his mind. He still had to try.

Everyone had arrived by eight in the morning. Apparently no one wanted to miss the parade. Loki retreated outside as soon as it started. The chaos inside the house slightly terrified him in a domestic way. He had never seen any one family so cheerfully anarchic. He thought for one instant returning to New York for a few hours, but thought better of it. New York was mobbed by tourists and he just knew Tony would have a box reserved for the the Avengers somewhere along the parade route. Watching it live with the paparazzi doing their best to capture ‘candid moments with the Avengers’ sounded unappealing at best.

He went inside after a while and stayed away from the den and the kitchen. He’d glanced in once, wondering just why Darcy had been dragged into preparations due to her lack of skilled cooking ability (she was good with pasta and uncomplicated dishes. Just not anything involving the oven.). He took one look in the room, noticed the harried expression on Darcy’s face as she chopped more vegetables, and stayed in the doorway. One of her relatives muttered something about boyfriends disturbing productivity. Darcy glanced up and saw Loki. She flushed red and bent back over her vegetables. She diced them into smaller bits as she glared down at the cutting board. Loki looked around at the semi-hostile expressions on most of the faces and retreated after a bowl of popcorn had been shoved into his arms.

Loki set the bowl on the coffee table in the den and went to the living room. A few of the adults sat with the younger children, doing some form of crafting with paper and traced hands. Loki watched for a bit, then grabbed a book from the table. It was one of those books people buy for decoration and never read. He read it from cover to cover within an hour.

“Lions!”

”Oh come on, you always root for them.”

Loki rolled his eyes; the parade must be finished. The conversation was rather loud and getting obnoxious. Thor would fit right in. He would have the appreciation for the sport Midgardians did. Loki placed the book back on the table and sank into the sofa again. 

He stayed in the corner curled up as people moved in and out of the room, listening to their conversations. He could not help the small smile that appeared every so often. The noise and general cheerfulness reminded him of Asgard and its feasts. But as he did when matters became mundane, he found another book and buried himself in it.

“I don’t care!”

Loki’s head shot up from the book at Darcy’s shout. He closed the book and swung his feet back to the floor as the argument continued and more people joined in.

“Louise, Darcy doesn’t live at home anymore. I can’t stop her from doing what she wants.”

”You’re sleeping with him outside of marriage!”

”Aunt Louise, shut _up_!”

Something slammed in the kitchen and Darcy walked into the room. Her eyes were red and her cheeks blotchy. She took one look at him and hurried out of the room. Loki hissed and followed. A door slammed shut. He took the stairs three at a time and knocked on her bedroom door.

“Go _away_.”

He flinched at the whining snap. If even half of what the entire house must have overheard was said, how bad must it have been before the yelling began? Loki thought of the muttered comments of the court even before his exile and his fey ways and, after it all, how he’d been broken. There were too few people in Asgard to support him aside from his family. Here, it seemed that it was just him supporting her.

”Darcy, please.”

The door opened finally. She’d started crying. Loki hugged her as he walked in and kicked the door shut. Darcy sobbed into his shoulder and he let her cry herself out.

“I get so tired of all the comments,” she hiccuped. “If it’s not our relationship, it’s my clothes or my hair or my job and I just want to go home.”

Loki tightened his arms and pulled her closer. “If you want, we can leave tonight after the feast has finished.”

”Please.” She hiccuped again. “I should never have come back.” Paused, then: “It feels like I’m giving up. I never give up.”

He sighed and kissed the top of her head. She’d started crying again and Loki had no words of comfort for her. Family always hurt the worst.


	5. A chance we'll have to take

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to my wonderful beta Independence1776. She's put up with me rambling about this series since, oh, the first Avengers movie.

The skyline glittered with lights. Loki leaned on the balcony rail and looked across the city to the glowing beacon of Stark Tower. Tony had yet to replace his name and the ‘A’ gleamed like a symbol to the universe that Earth was defended.

He half-turned at the sound of footsteps. His father stepped onto the balcony, his golden robes shimmering even in the starlight.

“Do you believe the treaty will hold?”

Loki shrugged one shoulder and turned back to watching the city. “The question is not whether they will hold, but whether how long it will take our ambassadors to inform Midgard on the wider universe. The nations of this realm have scrambled to become Asgard’s allies.”

Odin put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “We must believe they will.” He sighed. “Loki, what is troubling you?”

It would have been easier to ask what was not. Yet if he raised any of his lesser concerns, he would have no choice but to call himself coward. The guards were at the doors and he and his father were alone. No one would hear them speak.

“Two months ago Thor announced that he wished to formally court Jane Foster of Midgard,” Loki said.

“Are you not happy for your brother?”

Hypocrite. Liar. Neither Loki nor his mother had given any indication that they had overheard the beginning of a rather heated argument, yet Odin should not be pretending that he gave any indication he cared for the people of this planet except as yet another line in the defense of Yggdrasil. And even moreso, that he cared for the human women that his sons had fallen in love with.

And so it was with the words. Always with the words. Because Odin had resigned his responsibility but was loathe to relinquish his power. Thor might be king, but Odin’s opinions still held sway in the minds and hearts of many. Loki snapped around, knocking his father’s hand from his shoulder.

“It is not a question of his happiness,” Loki hissed. “Jane is a good match for him. They complement each other. It is my own happiness I care for.”

His father looked at him for a long moment, then closed his eye briefly like he was in mild pain. He turned to the rail and leaned on it. He stared out at the city for a little while before sighing. Loki paused for a minute, then stepped up next to his father.

“I had hoped that Thor would not be so rash,” Odin finally said. “Asgard might accept one bride from Midgard, but not two. Not for the royal house. The politics of his decision-”

Loki’s mouth thinned as he tried to bite back the words threatening to spill from his tongue. Tears pricked at his eyes.

“So again the second son is told to hide in his brother’s shadow,” Loki said, voice bitter. “To watch as his woman is tested, is wed, is-”

”Loki, _no_.”

Odin grabbed him by his shoulders and forced Loki to look at him. Loki glared. It did not matter how old and worn his father looked at this moment, it mattered that again he would have to sacrifice himself for Asgard as he had done for so many centuries without thanks. To take the blame in Midgard’s myths, to sit back and watch as Thor took the resulting praise for all Loki’s work in the shadows. Could he not have his one chance for happiness? Just once in all his life?

“If you were anything but the prince of Asgard,” his father said fiercely. “Then my approval of your marriage to your Midgardian woman-”

” _Her name is Darcy_.”

”-To your Darcy would never have become this contentious.” Odin’s eye blazed. “But you have an obligation to Asgard now that your brother has decided upon his suit and declared it in front of all. We cannot show that Midgard has favor over any other realm we are allied with, nor can we say to our court that none of their children meet our standards for our house yet two human maidens from Midgard do.”

Loki’s breath shook his body. His father’s hands seemed to burn through his clothes, branding his shoulders with their weight. His hands curled into fists and then relaxed.

“What would you have me do, then?”

I will play the dutiful son, Father, Loki thought. I will play your game. I will do what you ask of me, for the sake of Asgard. And I will _never_ forgive you.

Odin pulled him into an embrace. Loki did not fight it, but he trembled with suppressed rage. His father sighed and brushed Loki’s loose hair behind his ear. Loki prepared himself for the bitter truth.

“If your brother approves, I would have you remain on Midgard as our realm’s representative,” his father said. Loki jerked at the words. “Your lady will be your consort, your faithful companion. But, Loki, she cannot ever be your wife.”

Loki pulled away and stared at him. “I - I do not - Father. I would have done whatever you asked of me and I would have _hated_ you for it.”

”You can still hate me,” Odin said softly. “For you will bury her long before your own life ends.”

Loki turned to stare at the tower across the way. Darcy slept there tonight, in their bed. He could imagine the way she curled up beside him, her smile as she woke beside him in the morning.

“Then I will remain on Midgard until I lay her body to rest.”

He did not want to think of that day, of Darcy old and grey and without a smile on her face and no light in those clear blue eyes. Did not want to think of her in the ground with nothing but a stone to mark her existence. He’d written her a letter once when he’d thought he might leave, talked of remembering her fondly. It would be fond remembrances one day, but Loki knew he would be centuries mourning her passing. He had only barely realized when he’d written it years ago just how much he cared for her. How much he loved her.

He could not marry Darcy for the good of Asgard and oh how Loki wanted to rail against it. He looked at his father and the sadness in his eye. He knew. And he was sorry. No. Loki could not sell himself that lie. Odin was not sorry. His father always had a purpose for everything he did. This apparent manipulation of Loki’s feelings and loyalties-

Loki cast his mind about for some topic, something to say to break this awful tension. He could not think of Darcy decades in the future at this moment. He did not know when he would ever be prepared to say a permanent farewell to her. He did not ever want to. And he could not call his father out on the untruths both said and unsaid.

“I will still stand for the treaty signing,” Loki said, his voice barely carrying over the distant sound of traffic on the street far below and the ever-constant breeze this high from the ground. “I may reside on Midgard for the coming years, but Asgard is still my home.”

”I never doubted that, my son,” Odin said. He laid his hand on Loki’s shoulder almost hesitantly, as if certain Loki would knock it away again. “Come inside. Your mother wishes to speak with you.”

Loki bowed his head and let his father lead him away.

 

The Earth-Asgard Non-Agression and Mutual Defense Pact was now signed and delivered to the individual nations for ratification. And Thor stood in the middle of the room looking every inch the golden king he was.

Loki stood close to the wall and watched as his brother played politics with an easy smile, a hearty laugh, and sincere words of alliance. The treaty meant little aside from mutually promised aid if an outside force attacked either realm, but it was a start. And the representatives here from the other realms could only bear witness to the birth of Earth onto the galactic scene.

He deliberately avoided Helblindi. Loki had not forgotten their odd meeting in the marketplace and he was not going to let himself be trapped into a private meeting here. Too many people would remark upon it, given that his genetic heritage was the largest bone of contention between Asgard and Jotunhiem. At least that treaty was holding for the time being, as new as it was. Asgard could ill afford a war against the other realm with the threat of Thanos looming against them all. 

The soiree filled the space with chatter. It echoed off the walls and overwhelmed the live band playing gentle music in the corner. The party would be considered a raging success by the media in attendance. Loki let himself be interviewed precisely once, with a non-exclusive network from Vanahiem, and remained as mostly out of the way as he possibly could. This was not his moment - for once, he was glad to let Thor take all the glory.

He glanced around for his friends, all invited guests due to their role in bringing Asgard to Earth’s attention. Natasha wore a perfectly tailored dress and a neutral face as she constantly scanned the crowd, remaining close to Steve, Jane, and Tony. Clint had just returned from driving Bruce back to the tower, who had been reluctant to deal with the crowd for much longer than an hour.

Loki smiled a little when he saw Darcy gracefully leaving a conversation with several politicians and one of his men from the embassy. She wore a dark green dress with her hair pulled up into ringlets and a matching bolero-type jacket that did nothing to hide her curves. She smiled back, but made no move to come over and say hello. Neither of them wanted extra attention paid to her, and people would notice. They’d taken such care to keep their relationship out of the media’s ever-present view. Aside from the fact she also had a job to perform, smoothing any misunderstandings between the Asgardians and the Midgardians. This was the moment she’d been working towards and Loki refused to jeopardize it.

Loki turned and felt the smile flee. Helblindi was watching him with a slight smile of his own and a calculating look in his eyes. Then the Jotun prince walked forward heedless of those clamoring for his attention.

“Your friends are impressive, Prince,” Helblindi said. “Be honoured you have them.”

”I am,” Loki said.

He wanted to call for his friends, but he saw Helblindi’s point. They had been noticed by the wider realms. Loki narrowed his eyes at the Jotun. There was just a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. About what, precisely?

“Your brother has done much to restore the Nine Realms over the past few years,” Helblindi said. “He is young, for a king, but the promise is there to be a great one.” He smiled. “All the realms recognize it.”

Loki glanced around the room. No one was deferring to Thor the way they would have it had been Odin in his place. But it was all in the way they watched him. Loki felt the corners of his mouth tilt into a small smile. Thor was born for the throne.

“I will pass your kind words onto my brother,” Loki said.

Helblindi hesitated. He began to open his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and bent his head as a sign of respect from one prince to another. Then he turned and walked away.

Loki watched him leave, noting the lack of the golden cape which Laufey habitually wore draped across his shoulders, and wondered absently if it was a style choice or one related to rank. He truly did not know much about Jotunhiem’s customs aside what was expected for him as a prince of the realm. He had not desired to know - birth aside, he was Asgardian.

Loki slowly made his way over to Jane, who’d managed to waylay Darcy within the last five minutes. Jane, pretty as she was in her frock, looked out of her element. Clinging to Darcy seemed to help her. Both women smiled at him when he approached.

“Lady Jane,” Loki said. “Miss Lewis.” His hand ached to hold Darcy’s. But he clung to the lie that they’d met at the embassy. Keep the distance. Keep Darcy safe.

“Your Royal Highness,” Darcy said with an inclination of her head. It almost hid the frown and shrugged shoulder, but not the quick glance she shot to the side of the room where Odin stood conversing, Frigga at his side. Loki hissed slightly and clenched his jaw. Darcy’s eyes flashed defiance. He smiled at her obvious anger. They would work something out, somehow.

It was no more than an hour later when Loki said his farewells to his family. Thor looked at him with an entreating expression, but Loki shook his head. Thor was now king. He had best become accustomed to this politicking. The Asgardian court was hardly more civilized. It was all words and alliances and backstabbing and jockeying for position. And it reminded Loki of hunters gathering around prey, as the Chitauri had gathered around him.

Loki let his clothes fade back to his normal everyday wear when he reached the space set aside for the Asgardians. He took a moment to breathe and let some of the tension leach from his body. There would be much commentary on why he left so early, but at least he had the ready excuse of recovery. The thought made him slightly bitter. He should not have to use it.

He teleported into the common room of the tower. Bruce smiled from one of the chairs, one finger marking the spot in the book he was reading. Loki glanced at the television; it played live footage from the UN.

“It looked impressive,” Bruce said. “And exhausting. I made a pot of tea.”

Loki went to the bar and poured himself a cup immediately upon hearing that. He returned to the common room and sipped it slowly. The smell of spices and a hint of jasmine.

“Is this new?” Loki asked.

Bruce nodded at a tablet from the coffee table. “I found an online store that creates custom blends. Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Loki said. “The flavors are intriguing.”

“I thought you might,” Bruce said. He glanced down at the tablet and frowned. “I need to check on something in the lab.”

Loki considered him for one instant before glancing at the television. More talk and it looked as if it would continue for several more hours. Darcy would have to stay; aside from it being her job, she would not have many other chances to watch how intergalactic politics worked on this scale. As a minor functionary in the PR office, she would have little chance to see any of the high-level functions that occurred beyond this. Unless...

“Would you like me to order in dinner?” Loki asked, shaking himself from his musings. “Tony will probably want pizza after this finishes.”

Bruce smiled. “Sure.”

Loki flexed his hands, still feeling the guilt that he did not know how to repay his debt to the man. He remembered that day so vividly and he would not forget even if he could. Thanos was out there somewhere, ordering the Other about and readying the Chitauri for another strike. Midgard’s actions would not be forgotten nor forgiven. Thanos would come one day. They needed to be prepared.

There would be signs impossible to miss. The Tesseract was the first and best gateway, but other technology existed that could do the same. The Bifrost. The Casket. Jane’s own portal, half-finished as it was. There would be warning. The team would gather. Asgard and its allies standing united with Midgard. There would be glorious battle and Loki could not -would not - allow Thanos to triumph.

But that was not this day. This was a day for peace. Loki watched the proceedings until the networks decided to switch over to analysis. He asked JARVIS to turn off the television after Bruce re-opened his book and sighed.

Everyone would return here. This was where they resided when they could, the place they were all learning to call home. Saving the world from invasion, their actions bound the disparate group together. Even if Tony hadn’t explicitly invited them to live in the remodeled tower, Loki suspected they would have come anyway. There were stronger bonds than blood and oaths sworn to unforgiving masters. Bonds of friendship, trust, and blood spent in battle. So they came and they stayed.

Like Darcy did. Like he did.

If he was to remain on Midgard for the foreseeable future, Loki could think of no place else he would rather be.


End file.
